


Hell Mission

by codename_bewareofthefangirl



Series: Love Shot [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Arguing, Crush at First Sight, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dorks in Love, Fluff, Hiri Nezumi, Hurt/Comfort, Iwaizumi Hajime Swears, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Mutual Pining, Petty Oiks, Pro Volleyball Player Oikawa Tooru, Protective Iwaizumi Hajime, Puny Yakuza, Secret Agent Akaashi, Secret Agent Bokuto, Secret Agent Iwaizumi, Secret Agent Kuroo, Secret Identity, Sexual Tension, Spies & Secret Agents, Threats, Threats of Violence, Yakuza, bodyguard Iwaizumi, implied bokuaka, implied kuroken
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-06-13 06:56:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15358776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codename_bewareofthefangirl/pseuds/codename_bewareofthefangirl
Summary: Iwaizumi should have known, from the moment his eyes had lingered a second too much on that fake, flamboyant smile, that the mission would have been a hell. “It’s the usual bodyguard stuff!” they had said, “It’s only a week!”, “You’re attending a wedding! You can eat and enjoy yourself as much as you want!” they had repeated while pushing him on a plane to L.A.Bullshit.After three hours of following around his never-stopping target, the same guy had had the guts to corner Iwaizumi and shamelessly hit on him.His target, Oikawa Tooru, was the devil himself.





	1. A Flirt With The Devil

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> I finally found the courage to post this short ff on AO3, today that's Oikawa Tooru's birthday, and I hope it will worth your time! It was inspired by a small comic a Tumblr artist, kiviont, did for me, and I fell in love with the idea. BAMF! Iwaizumi is one of my favourite versions *-* It won't be anything too complicated or angsty, I like seeing IwaOi happy and in love :3
> 
> Let me know what you think about it, I'll soon post the other chapters!

 

**The story was inspired by[this amazing short comic](https://codename-bewareofthefangirl.tumblr.com/post/167101454120/your-ask-is-really-open-we-can-ask-for-your) by the lovely [kiviont](http://kiviont.tumblr.com/post/167095643374/your-ask-is-really-open-we-can-ask-for-your)! READ IT BEFOREHAND OR YOU WON'T UNDERSTAND.**

 

“Akaashi please send someone else.”

_“Iwaizumi-san pl-”_

“Akaashi, I’m serious. Send. Someone. Else.”

A sigh from the other end of the transceiver.

_“Iwaizumi-san, it’s the first time you’ve asked me something like this in years and I’d love to help you, but, unfortunately, it’s impossible. I can’t send a substitute agent at this time.”_

Iwaizumi groaned loudly, hitting the white wall with the palm of the hand.

“Why?” He asked, nearly begged.

Another sigh.

_“First, because we’ve already sent to anyone who’s organizing the wedding party your false identity and you can’t suddenly disappear. It could blow our cover.” Akaashi kept speaking in an unexpressive tone, but Iwaizumi could recognize that infamous inflection he used to calm down Bokuto during his childish mood swings, and it was irking him, “Second, you’re closed in the restroom. What do you expect me to do?”_

Oh, the devil was even smirking right now, Iwaizumi could have sworn it.

“He’s tried to hit on me. He. Has. Hit. On. Me,” he hissed trying to keep his voice down as someone suddenly entered the luxurious restroom.

 _“Yeah, he has good tastes, nothing strange.”_ Iwaizumi had to bite his tongue to not curse and clenched his fists, waiting for the guest to leave. When he heard the toilet flush and the door closing, he exhaled tiredly.

“Do not make things worse, Akaashi. I’m not supposed to get in touch with him.”

“ _He’s the one trying to approach you, it would be more strange to blatantly avoid him. Especially when he’s that handsome, and please do not deny it, I have eyes.”_

“Yeah, I have them too, thanks. But he’s a freak: he’s followed me after I turned him down and he’s annoyingly persistent. He calls me Hiri-chan and I haven’t even told him my fake name. By the way, I fucking hate it.”

Iwaizumi should have known, from the moment his eyes had lingered a second too much on that fake, flamboyant smile, that the mission would have been a hell. “It’s the usual bodyguard stuff!” they had said, “It’s only a week!”, “You’re attending a wedding! You can eat and enjoy yourself as much as you want!” they had repeated while pushing him on a plane to L.A.

Bullshit.

After three hours of following around his never-stopping target, the same guy had had the guts to corner Iwaizumi and shamelessly hit on him.

_“It only means the cover is working well,” Akaashi tried to reassure him, not understanding what was bothering his colleague that much, (apart from the name thing, but he found that amusing), “You can’t do nothing about his…cheerful personality.”_

“Shitty personality!” Iwaizumi automatically corrected him, “I’ve seen him showing real emotions maybe twice during the entire day…Anyway! That’s not the problem! I wasn’t trying to attract attention, Akaashi. Hell! I tried to keep a low profile!” Iwaizumi said frustrated as he paced back and forth the lucid tile of the toilet. At that point, he hoped someone was going to attack the target for real so that he could vent all that stress out.

_“Golden let you know that it’s because you’re hot, especially with that shirt, and not to worry about it.” In the background, Iwaizumi could hear the loud agent cackling, probably along with Kuroo._

“Tell him I’m going to whoop his ass as soon as I come back.”

He could practically hear Akaashi’ smile.

“ _I will,” he complied with the usual politeness, “Now, please Iwaizumi-san, leave that restroom and go back to the party. Our target can’t remain without cover too long and you’ve been away for fifteen minutes.”_

Iwaizumi sighed, rubbing his temples, but nodded. He knew he hadn’t a choice and, honestly, now that he had calmed a bit, his pride as a secret agent was prodding him to find his mark and do his job as good as he usually did: perfectly. Iwaizumi wasn’t the ace agent of his agency without motive.

“Akaashi?”

“ _Yes?”_

“Keep your eyes open,” Iwaizumi mumbled, “That guy approached me too quickly. It’s strange.”

_“Iwaizumi-san, he’s a professional volleyball player, please relax.”_

He heard a sudden ruckus and a loud voice pierced his left eardrum.

_“GOOD LUCK IWA!” Bokuto screamed excitedly. “EAT A LOT OF GOOD FOOD! THE TARTS LOOK DELICIOUS!”_

_“Relax Iwa!” Kuroo followed with a lazy chuckle “The poor boy just wants a good bang!”_

Iwaizumi felt a vein popping and he angrily hanged up before he could lose his patience and blow his cover by yelling at those dumbasses of his friends.

Gritting his teeth, he straightened the collar of his shirt and checked that the guns and knife were hidden in their place. He finally opened the door and cautiously exited from the toilet, surveying his surroundings.

Clear.

He washed his face with cold water and glared at his reflection in the mirror, green eyes ready to murder someone on the spot.

“You can do it,” he whispered to himself, “You’re a professional.”

Iwaizumi took a deep breath and braced himself.

Oikawa Tooru was just a normal, egocentric, pretty guy. Everything was going to be fine.

 

Or maybe not.

The next day, Iwaizumi was once again locked in the toilet of the restroom, trying to understand what the hell had gone wrong with his mission.

“How the fuck is possible?! Is he the devil?” he roared, scrolling through the photos he had taken that morning.

_“Well, this is…interesting,” Akaashi mused in his ear._

“No, it’s creepy!” Iwaizumi repeated, tapping furiously on his camera. He felt partially infuriated, partially amazed and a tiny bit scared.

_“Are you sure it’s not a coincidence?”_

“I was taking photos of everyone, strolling casually around. I was far away, using the zoom to locate him. It can’t be a coincidence,” He replied, staring at a pair of sharp chocolate eyes, “It can’t be.”

After the incident of the afternoon before, he had decided to try and avoid any kind of direct contact with the target. He had kept Oikawa under surveillance from further away, focusing on chatting with other guests and building a more credible cover. During the night, he had managed to sleep only three hours, as that devil had chosen to stay up watching old volleyball matches and shitty tv series until four; for this reason, in the morning he had been less than inclined to interact and had used the excuse of photography both to avoid conversations and keep an eye on Oikawa from afar. He had taken photos of him, probably with the idea of studying him later.

And Iwaizumi could have sworn that every time he had pressed the button and snapped the photo, Oikawa wasn’t looking at him. He shouldn’t have, because Iwaizumi was far away and faking to photograph flowers, other peoples enjoying themselves and shit like that. Because Iwaizumi was undercover and a plain, normal guy that had never talked before with the amazing Oikawa Tooru. Because Iwaizumi was good at his job and his job meant secrecy and going unnoticed.

And yet, there he was. Looking directly into the lens, a faint grin on the thin lips as he challenged Iwaizumi.

“This bastard is playing around,” he growled, tightening his grip around a particularly good photo of the boy, sunrays playing with his chestnut hair as he entertained a group of damsels, surrounded by bushes of roses. But he was gazing at Iwaizumi.

“ _Iwai-_ ”

“Don’t worry Akaashi, one way or another I’ll win this battle!” He felt his heart drumming, the lips curving into a predatory smile. Oikawa wanted to play? Oh, he was ready. Iwaizumi was going to show him how fucking good he was.

“ _Iwaizumi-san I don’t think you should let hi-_ ”

“Later. I’m going.” And he cut off the communication, storming out of the bathroom ready to fight.

 

Iwaizumi made small conversation with some random guests, just to mix in the group as he strolled around the spacious, shining ballroom. He side-glanced Oikawa, still surrounded by squealing fans; funny thing, Iwaizumi had never seen him talking to the same person more than twice. Did he really know someone there? He didn’t remember reading about Oikawa’s friends, but maybe he had forgotten it, and it wouldn’t have been a surprise. The room was full of people he had been forced to memorize faces and identities of unknown people, all dressed up in elegant dresses and suits, but that he was already forgetting. It was just…too much. A soft music played in the air, the crystal chandeliers gave everything a golden aura. Well, for being one of the most awaited weddings of the year, they were doing a good job.

“Some champagne, sir?” A posh waiter offered him a flute, and he gladly accepted.

The problem with this kind of events? There were too many people. Even if you learned the identity of every guest, an unexpected enemy could still sneak in as a waiter or a forgotten relative or…well, pretty much as everyone. And, obviously, Oikawa had to accept the invite to such a grand occasion instead of staying in his small, tidy apartment where his team could watch over him with ease.

Iwaizumi fought not to frown and sipped the champagne.

“At least the food is good…”

“Well, I’m happy you’re enjoying at least that since you seem to dislike the company.” It took Iwaizumi all the years of training not to jolt. He stiffened and tried to keep his poker face as he turned to greet his sudden interlocutor.

“The fact that I dislike your company it doesn’t mean I dislike everyone else’s,” he replied blankly. Five seconds before, that little shit was at least twenty feet away from him, how had he done it?

Oikawa Tooru, staring down at him with evident mirth, burst in an amused chuckle.

“Oh no, I’m pretty sure you’re bored out of your mind,” Oikawa winked at him, “I’m an incredibly good observer.” His smirk got sharper as he finished the sentence.

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Really? Is it due to your job?” He faked not to know every single detail of Oikawa’s life.

The brunet frowned and then gaped offended, realizing what he meant.

“You don’t know who am I?” He asked incredulous, a ridiculous pout on his lips.

 _“I even know your favorite brand of milk bread,”_ Iwaizumi thought, yet he answered with a shrug.

“I just know you’re annoying. And suck at flirting.”

Oikawa was jaw-dropped. Iwaizumi had to mask a grin watching his butt-hurt expression.

“I,” Oikawa stressed it as he scrunched the nose, “am the national volleyball player Oikawa Tooru-”

“Oh right, I’ve seen you. You’re not bad.”

“ _I’m not bad?-What?-_ I’m the best!” Oikawa was now outraged, and Iwaizumi couldn’t restrain himself anymore, bursting in a warm laughter.

“Are you making fun of me?” Oikawa asked suspiciously, crossing his arms. Iwaizumi shrugged again, still a faint smirk on his face.

“Maybe?” He took another sip and glanced around, but nothing attracted his attention. Not when his target was chatting with him, not when the most outstanding man in the room was whining like a child by his side.

“And, anyway,” Oikawa continued poking his shoulder, “I don’t suck at flirting.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes.

“You pinned me to a wall, talking about smooth and subtle,” Iwaizumi snorted, giving him a dirty look. Oikawa scoffed and replied with an alluring half-smile.

“I wasn’t trying to be subtle.” Iwaizumi ignored his cheeks heating up and his mind screaming “ _FUCK HE’S HOT”_ and remained deadpan.

“Guess it’s not your forte, anyway.”

Oikawa threw up his hands with an exaggerated sigh, “Let’s leave that aside! I mean,” he corrected himself, “it is outrageous and absurd that you don’t appreciate my appeal, yet I’m more disturbed by the fact that this conversation has just destroyed all my hypothesis.”

Even if he still wore that carefree smile, Iwaizumi noticed how his eyes had become suddenly serious. He should have left with an excuse, not letting his target drag him into a dangerous situation but… there was something captivating, something that pushed Iwaizumi to stay to discover, see more about him. He felt curious. And, damn, challenged and irritated, but that was another factor.

“What hypothesis?” he asked as Oikawa checked him from head to toes.

“Uh? Ah, that you are a tsundere, obsessive fan of mine.” Iwaizumi’s disgusted and horrified expression hurt Oikawa’ pride.

“Do you have this kind of fans?”

“Yeah, from time to time, but you evidently are not one of them.”

“On my dead body,” Iwaizumi assured him gravely. Fuck the mission, he has his pride to protect.

Oikawa nodded, acknowledging his words, and hummed thoughtfully. His long, slender fingers loosened up the knot of the teal tie he was wearing and Iwaizumi’s eyes flickered to the smooth skin of his throat.

“So,” Oikawa mused, regaining the other’s attention in a heartbeat, “Why were you photographing me?”

Iwaizumi risked choking. Shit, that dumbass really wasn’t subtle at all.

He stared at his target. The boy was waiting, trying to hide the trepidation behind the sharp, piercing eyes, and everything in his body posture, straight back and arms crossed, signaled that he didn’t have any intention of backing off without an answer. Maybe, there was a little of fear or hesitancy in the way he bit the corner of his bottom lip, but Iwaizumi felt sure that wouldn't have stopped Oikawa. He had seen one of his matches: that guy was made to fight, especially battles that seemed impossible.

“How did you know?” He asked instead, taking his time to choose what to do.

Oikawa flashed a peace sign, grinning proudly.

“Setters’ keen senses,” he replied puffing his chest out, “A real setter is able to see everything on the court and to analyze every detail to plan how to move. I told you, I am the best.”

His unwavering self-confidence struck Iwaizumi. The setter wasn’t joking, he was oozing honesty and pride, and, for once, it was genuine and sort of…not annoying? Iwaizumi could tell it wasn’t just boasting, Oikawa knew what he was talking about and seemed to have worked hard for it.

“So?” Oikawa pushed, leaning a bit to get on the same-eye level of his.

Iwaizumi clicked his tongue, irritated by the difference in height, and flickered his forehead. He grabbed the tie of the brunet and pulled him closer.

“Follow me,” he ordered in a gruff whisper and quickly turned on his heels, walking straight to the balcony.

Oikawa, cheeks reddening, stumbled on his feet and rushed behind him. That had been…hot. Shit that man was hot. Hot. Hot. Hot. Oikawa could hear his best friend, Sugawara, laughing at him for being such a clumsy, thirsty teenager.

Iwaizumi guided them until they were in a secluded area of the garden, inside a childish maze of pruned hedges. The red rays of the dying sun cast strange shadows on the ground, while silly couples chased each other or strolled peacefully while talking in whispers. The man nudged to the brunet to sit on a bench of stone.

Oikawa was literally quivering with curiosity as he bounced his leg up and down while he waited for the answer. He wanted to know why that -hot- stranger was observing, or stalking, him and he really, really hoped it wasn’t because he was a sort of psychopath.

Iwaizumi scanned the area, searching for any sign of threats. When he found none, he finally brought his gaze back to the player.

“Could you stop moving? You’re attracting attention,” he grunted with a dirty look.

Oikawa glared.

“If you answered me, maybe I could,” he coldly replied, yet he did as asked and smoothly relaxed his shoulders. He even wore a fake smile, as a practiced mask.

Iwaizumi snorted at his expression but didn’t comment.

“Do you remember the middle-blocker from the Kyoto Team you defeated three weeks ago?” he asked instead, stretching a bit to loosen the tension in his muscles.

Oikawa eyes fell on his arms and his throat dried.

“You mean the lousy, whiny middle-blocker that offered me money to let them win?” Oikawa managed to answer, tearing his gaze away and focusing on Iwaizumi’s face. Bad idea, those cheekbones were sharp enough to cut his heart in two.

The raven nodded, hiding a smirk at the disgust in Oikawa’s voice.

“That one,” he confirmed, “He hadn’t lied when he had threatened you, dumbass. He really was from Yakuza.” Iwaizumi revealed it slowly, trying to read every expression passing in Oikawa’s eyes.

Surprise. Shock. Confusion. Understanding.

Fear.

“Yakuza?” he repeated, playing with the hem of his shirt. “I thought he was bluffing…” Even if he was trying to conceal the tremor in his voice, Iwaizumi still noticed it.

“Yeah, he’s one of the younger sons. He didn’t take really well your rejection and…asked his dad to take care of it, to heal his wounded pride. The fact that you whooped his ass during the match didn’t help.”

Oikawa froze, chocolate eyes were blown wide. His entire body tensed, and Iwaizumi stilled in response; he had a feeling that if he dared to make the slightest move, the setter would have fled with all of his energy.

“So?” Oikawa whispered, forcing a blank expression.

Iwaizumi frowned. Fear didn’t suit Oikawa.

“So, they sent me to protect your shitty ass, stop being so fucking scared.”

Oikawa gaped, “You’re here to protect me?” he shrilled loudly, and Iwaizumi cursed, slapping a hand over his mouth with a deadly glare.

“I’m trying, but you’re making things difficult Trashykawa!” he growled as he glanced around. Nothing suspicious.

Oikawa nodded and Iwaizumi released him before his mind could focus on the fact that Oikawa’s lips were in fact as soft as they looked and- Fuck.

“Who asked you to protect me?” he whispered excitedly, smiling like a child, “Are you a bodyguard? Have you done this before? Is your name really Hiri Nezumi? Have you already find someone suspicious? Can I help you in any way?” At every question, Oikawa inched closer until he was few breaths away from Iwaizumi’s embarrassed face.

Shit, his lashes were long.

“First,” he slapped his hand on Oikawa’s face and pushed him away, “We were already monitoring that gang and we couldn’t let them kill off a national player, so we took action.”

“I knew you knew who I was!” Oikawa cheered proudly, making him roll his eyes.

“Second,” Iwaizumi continued, “I’m a secret agent, not a full-time bodyguard and-”

“That’s so cool!” the brunet thrilled bouncing on his seat, and Iwaizumi felt the need to slap him on the head and hug him at the same time. Oikawa was more of a dork than what he seemed.

“Anyway, my name is not Hiri Nezumi*, my stupid colleagues chose that stupid name for me.”

Oikawa snorted and chirped a “Fitting,” before Iwaizumi shut him with a glare.

“And finally, no, I haven’t found anyone suspicious for now and the only way you can help me is by behaving and not blowing my cover. Do what you were doing, be normal, forget everything.”

Oikawa pouted, deluded.

“But I can’t forget it now that I know it!” He complained, waving his hands around, “I can’t Agent-san! Absolutely impossible.”

Iwaizumi groaned, “Do you want to die? No? Do what I say.”

Oikawa stubbornly shook his head, and Iwaizumi felt tempted to stun him and lock him away until the week had passed. He wasn’t bothered about it being illegal, not when Oikawa’s capacity of annoying the shit out of him and still looking cute was illegal as fuck.

“What if I have a better idea?” Oikawa interrupted his dark plans, and the raven knew from that sultry tone that he was going to regret everything he had done until that moment.

The brunet leaned again, locking eyes with him. A hopeful, tempting light shined over his perfect face, and Iwaizumi would have wanted to stand up and leave, but he could only restrain himself from headbutting him. Or kissing him. He hadn’t decided yet.

“I bet it’s going to be a stupid one,” he deadpanned, but Oikawa didn’t waver.

“Well, you have to keep an eye on me, right?” Iwaizumi nodded slightly, and Oikawa’s sharp grin widened, “Then, let me flirt successfully with you, Mr. Secret Agent-san,” he whispered tilting his head to the side, chestnut locks falling over his eyes, “I’ll make sure you’ll never lose sight of me for the rest of the week, night and day. Never.”

Oh, Iwaizumi should have known that mission would have been hell.

His target was the devil himself.


	2. Woo Me Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ah! We forgot the most important thing!” Oikawa chirped, suddenly locking their arms together. Iwaizumi risked to jolt, but, as he chanted in his head, he was a professional, so he relaxed beside the brunet as a proper, charmed-away guy would have.
> 
> “What now?”
> 
> He didn’t see the small smile that bloomed on Oikawa’s lips at the gesture, who purposefully leaned against the other boy. Damn, he was firm. Sugawara was going to laugh so much when he would tell him.
> 
> “Your name! The real one!” He curved to whisper into the raven's ear as a child asking to know a secret.
> 
> Iwaizumi shivered as Oikawa's hot breath caressed the skin of his ear, but again remained impassive.
> 
> “No. Go with Hiri Nezumi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted! I hope you'll like it and it doesn't feel rushed (well, I wanred it was love at first sight), let me know what you thought of them!

When Oikawa had said “day and night”, Iwaizumi was ashamed to admit he had immediately imagined some…steamy activities.

Well, he had been wrong. It seemed he was always wrong about that damn player. 

In Oikawa’s luxurious suite, the brunet was sprawled on the white couch with a big bucket of popcorn he had just ordered and wrapped in a blanket to “create atmosphere”; on the maxi-screen of the tv flashed the title “X-files”, and a haunting music played in the background as the boy waited for him with shiny, excited eyes.

Iwaizumi grunted, rubbing his eyes, because he’d have liked to slap himself for being that weak but… Oikawa was batting his long eyelashes and had that puppy-look that made it impossible to refuse.

Just as he had done a few hours before.

 

_“…Never.”_

_It took Iwaizumi more than ten seconds to metabolize what Oikawa had just offered._

_His skin grew red from the base of the neck to the tip of the ears, embarrassment threatening to choke him._

_“What the fuck!” He hissed, pushing the brunet’s face away._

_Oikawa lost his seducing smile immediately, replacing it with an offended pout._

_“Think for a second, you brute!” He bit back, grabbing the raven’s hand and keeping it firmly into his._

_Nice hands, smooth skin, strong grip Iwaizumi’s mind took note as he groaned internally._

_“I am thinking and I would like to remind you I’m a professional secret agent, here to save your shitty ass, so stop playing around!” He couldn’t fall into Oikawa’s trap like that, he had a pride, he had a-_

_A flash of hurt glinted in Oikawa’s eyes as he let his hand go, and Iwaizumi felt guilty on spot. “First, I wasn’t playing around. Second, if your job is to protect me, then it would be more convenient for everyone if you spent all your time with me. And what a better excuse than a sudden, innocent flirt?” He explained slowly, straightening his back. Because, alright, Oikawa found the agent hot and he was curious and had vaguely wondered about how those arms would feel around him instead of listening to the raven, BUT he was not the type of guy to sell himself or sleep around, he had a pride. A big one._

_Iwaizumi seemed to notice the misunderstanding and calmed, raising his hands as a sign of peace. What Oikawa had said wasn’t completely foolish, especially as a way to strengthen his cover; they had high possibilities of being attacked during that week and, with all the people around, having an excuse to stick to Oikawa wasn’t that bad…_

_Iwaizumi rubbed the back of his neck with an exasperated sigh; he’d never had to deal with such a problematic situation before. Maybe because he had never met someone as problematic as Oikawa._

_He finally brought back his gaze on Oikawa, who was waiting for an answer. He seemed composed, a bit offended maybe, but Iwaizumi had started to think that the way he bit his bottom lip and his fingers twitched was a sign of anxiety. And damn, the hopeful light in his blown-wide eyes was too much._

_“You,” Iwaizumi began, knitting his brows, “You are afraid.”_

_Oikawa scoffed, crossing his arms and dramatically rolling his eyes, “I’m not afraid, I’m just smart and with a decent sense of self-preservation. I have a match in two weeks, I can’t forfeit because I’m dead. Or worse, injured.” The only thought cast angry shadows on Oikawa’s face, and Iwaizumi snorted, shaking his head._

_“Sure, Shittykawa, sure.” He was amazed by the brunet’s fierce attachment to volleyball, but it was also… interesting. So, he could do be serious about something._

_“Then it’s settled?” Oikawa pushed, hopefully, and Iwaizumi nodded._

_“YES!” Oikawa cheered, nearly jumping up, but Iwaizumi held up a finger._

_“But,” he interrupted Oikawa’s happy dance, “I have a condition.”_

_“A condition?”_

_“You have to do what I say.”_

_“Oh, kinky, Agent-san!” Oikawa smirked, and Iwaizumi slapped the back of his head, earning a “Brute!”_

_“I’m serious, Shittykawa. Especially in case of emergency, your safety comes first,” he reminded him sternly, and Oikawa calmed down, nodding._

_“Yes, sir!” He mocked a salute, and Iwaizumi gave a half-hearted glare._

_The two stood up, stretching, and Oikawa hummed. The garden had gradually emptied, all the guests heading over to dinner, and the sky had darkened to a deep blue._

_“Ah! We forgot the most important thing!” Oikawa chirped, suddenly locking their arms together. Iwaizumi risked to jolt, but, as he chanted in his head, he was a professional, so he relaxed beside the brunet as a proper, charmed-away guy would have._

_“What now?”_

_He didn’t see the small smile that bloomed on Oikawa’s lips at the gesture, who purposefully leaned against the other boy. Damn, he was firm. Sugawara was going to laugh so much when he would tell him._

_“Your name! The real one!” He curved to whisper into the raven's ear as a child asking to know a secret._

_Iwaizumi shivered as Oikawa's hot breath caressed the skin of his ear, but again remained impassive._

_“No. Go with Hiri Nezumi.”_

_“Why?” Oikawa whined petulantly, hanging from his arm._

_“I don’t want you to blow my cover by mistake,” Iwaizumi frowned, but his mouth pulled into a smirk._

_“I wouldn’t! Stop overestimating me!” Oikawa complained, scrunching his nose._

_“You would.”_

_“I wouldn’t”_

_“You would.”_

_“I wouldn’t"_

_Iwaizumi stopped midtrack and with a tug forced the other boy to face him. Oikawa hadn’t noticed, but they were already on the crowded patio of the villa._

_“You_ would, _trust me,” Iwaizumi whispered as he gently grabbed Oikawa’s tie and faked to fix it for him; the strong, calloused hands brushing against his sensitive neck, “I’m not saying you would do it on purpose, but you could call me out during an emergency or something similar, and we would be fucked up. So, please, use Hiri Nezumi.”_

 _Oikawa gulped, praying his cheeks weren’t as red as he felt_ them, _and observed Iwaizumi’s adamant, but gentle gaze. He really didn’t want to belittle him, he was doing it for his safety._

_It was annoying and unfair, Oikawa wanted to know it so badly, but in the end, he huffed, shifting his eyes to the ground._

_“Fine,” he agreed begrudgingly, and immediately Iwaizumi offered a small smile, relieved._

_“Good, now let’s go,” he mused, ruffling absent-mindedly Oikawa’s hair, before grabbing his hand and dragging him toward the house, “And try to woo me right, you dumbass.” His ears were flaming red._

_Oikawa, jaw-dropped, stumbled behind him._

_“Damn,” he thought, failing to hold back a giddy smile, “You’re the one who’s wooing me right, Agent-san.”_

_Instead, he complained, “But tonight I’m the one deciding what to do, Hiri-chan! No buts!”_

_  
_

 

Iwaizumi sat down by Oikawa’s side, who promptly pressed play on the remote, and then shifted. He crossed his arms and unfolded them two or three times. He tapped with his fingers the armrest of the couch. He moved a bit to the left, then to the right. He overlapped the left leg on the right and then switched. He resumed the initial position and was going to move an inch forward when suddenly Oikawa swiftly turned and put his legs on Iwaizumi’s lap 

“Oi, Shittykawa!” He roared, surprised, but Oikawa glared back, pushing against his chest a cushion and forcing his arms around it.

“Hug this and stay still for God’s sake!” he muttered, using his weight to pin him to the couch. Iwaizumi pulled a face but kept quiet since he knew that he was moving a little too much.

“Are all the spies this restless?” Oikawa huffed, resuming watching the screen with interest.

“…I’m not used to this,” Iwaizumi reluctantly admitted, trying to follow the plot of the episode, “Is the first one of the first season?”

“Used to this as to watching a tv series with someone else?” Oikawa asked giving him a cheeky, but curious glance, “And obviously it’s the first one. You’ve never seen it, right? You can’t appreciate it if we don’t start here.”

“To not having something to do,” Iwaizumi corrected with a shrug, “Won’t you get bored watching them all over again?”

Iwaizumi was being honest. Usually, at times like this, he was busy keeping an eye on his target, monitoring the cameras and trying to remain vigil. Now, well, now he only had to enjoy a tv series and try not to fall asleep, glancing at his special watch from time to time in case Akaashi sent him an emergency message. It was strange, a bit unnatural, but sort of… nice. He hadn’t done something like that in a long time.

“I would never get tired of the X-Files.” Oikawa was as serious as if he had just revealed the meaning of life, and Iwaizumi snorted.

“I bet nobody wants to see them with you anymore, you nerd…”

“Mean Agent-san! They just don’t understand the beauty of this masterpiece!”

“I pity them…”

They fell into a comfortable silence as the episode went on. And then another one, and another. At some point, Iwaizumi shoulders had finally loosened up against the couch in a relaxed position, while his fingers mindlessly drew circles on Oikawa’s legs, still on his lap. If the boy had minded, he hadn’t said anything, and Iwaizumi had continued.

Truth is, Oikawa was freaking inside. Okay, he was aware he was hot and adorable, but usually, people were a bit put off by how he behaved at home; he had used the excuse of Iwaizumi not being allowed to leave due to his job and sized the chance of a comfy night with his favorite series. What he hadn’t expected was Iwaizumi playing along with it. Yes, the agent had mocked him when he had changed into his pajamas with aliens and had raised an eyebrow questioningly at the series, but, still, he had sat down. Damn, he had left Oikawa’s legs onto his lap! He felt like he was going to combust.

He stole a little glance at the raven, sighing internally at the sight of his face. He liked the manly type. And Oikawa could also feel the weight of his arms on him, and it was driving him crazy. He was such a crushing high-schooler.

The only thing missing was…

Iwaizumi snorted, “I bet you’re like him, and you like it too.”

Oikawa gaped, taken aback. He didn’t expect Iwaizumi to break the silence first, not after four episodes.

The agent turned to give him an amused look, lips perked up with a smirk.

“W-who?” Oikawa stuttered, hoping he hadn’t noticed he was staring. No, really, good job Tooru, suave as hell.

“Molder,” Iwaizumi replied, evident mirth in his voice, “You and Molder.”

Oikawa immediately puffed out his chest, proud, “Obviously! He’s the best character ever and yes, I’m proud of it! This is the best compliment ever!” he chirped, smiling widely, and the other scoffed.

“I meant you’re a closet nerd.”

“A closet could never contain my nerdy greatness,” he stuck out his tongue, and Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, pinching his leg, “And you’re totally Scully.”

“No offense taken, she’s pretty strong and capable,” Iwaizumi hummed, and Oikawa grinned.

“I knew it!”

Iwaizumi then returned watching the screen, but Oikawa wasn’t going to miss his chance to talk with him.

“Why, Agent-san?” he chirped leaning toward him, “Do you want to know more about me?”

Iwaizumi shrugged, ignoring his actions. “Not really.”

“Come on,” Oikawa whined petulantly, “I want to talk! Let’s play twenty questions!” he begged, tugging his sleeve.

Iwaizumi had the good sense of not looking at him and chuckled, “Really? Twenty questions? Everyone knows nobody ever reaches it and it’s just another way to interrogate the shit out of the other one.”

Oikawa tugged harder, frowning.

“Do you interrogate people like that?” he teased, earning a glare. “Pretty please! One question each, for a bit! While we watch the show!”

Iwaizumi shouldn’t have glared at him because now he was stuck watching his eyes growing wide and glassy.

He shifted uncomfortably. With the life he led, that game could be more dangerous than anything. However, he wasn’t forced to answer everything. That didn’t smooth the fact he wasn’t used to be questioned, and he really didn’t know what to expect from Oikawa. Probably the sneaky bastard wanted information about his work and…

“Pretty please!”

How could he make his lips quiver like that?

Iwaizumi sighed, slapping his hands away without force.

“I won’t reply to everything,” he warned, but Oikawa only let out a cheer, pumping up his fists.

“It’s fine! It’s fine!” the brunet replied, a hungry glint in his eyes. Iwaizumi was a bit wary of how observing and keen he was. He wondered if years of training could top Oikawa’s innate abilities and his training as a setter.

“I’ll start first!”

“What a surprise,” Iwaizumi huffed.

“Let’s see…” the agent braced himself, stiffening, “What’s your favorite color?”

“What?” Iwaizumi burst, looking at him bewildered.

“What’s your favorite color?” Oikawa replied with a serious, stern face.

Iwaizumi stared at him, blinking.

“That’s such a cliché question,” he chuckled in the end, shaking his head.

“No, it’s just underestimated!” Oikawa protested fiercely, “Colors say a lot about the personality!”

Iwaizumi snorted, covering his mouth with a hand. What a dork.

“So?”

“Deep blue.” Iwaizumi, despite his mocking, thought carefully about his answer, and Oikawa beamed up.

“Mine is teal!” He added happily.

“And what does this tell about me?” Iwaizumi teased.

Oikawa grinned, “That we’re more than compatible, Agent-san!” he winked.

Iwaizumi lightly jabbed him.

“Your turn now.”

Iwaizumi distractedly watched as Molder ran after some strange creature.

“Do you believe in aliens?”

“Absolutely yes!” Oikawa nearly didn’t let him finish talking, bouncing up with enthusiasm, “There’s life out there! I’m just waiting for proofs! Or being abducted.”

Iwaizumi was wide-eyed, not knowing if he wanted to laugh at his childish passion or cringe at how dork he was. He also scolded his own brain for underlining he was still cute.

“And you?”

“No,” Iwaizumi stated bluntly, and Oikawa seemed disappointed, but then shrugged.

“You really are like Scully; one day, you’ll understand the truth.” He waved it off, ignoring Iwaizumi’s pointed look, “So, what do you do at home to relax?”

“I thought it was my turn again?”

“Don’t be childish, Agent-san.”

Iwaizumi sighed, pinching his calf now, and Oikawa yelped.

“I train usually, to blow some steam off.” He waited for Oikawa to complain of about boring he was, but the brunet just hummed in understanding.

“Yeah, I like practicing too. Sometimes I do it at night when I can’t sleep,” he revealed easily, somehow enough relaxed to spill the truth. Iwaizumi had a comforting aura, didn’t he?

The raven scowled, slapping his head.

“You’re a fucking pro athlete and you practice all the time? Haven’t you heard of exhaustion? You should take better care of yourself!” he growled as if he could see with his own eyes a sweaty Oikawa practicing on his own, in the middle of the night on an empty court.

Oikawa looked at him surprised and then pouted.

“I do relax sometimes, don’t be such a mom!” he muttered, years of people saying the same things echoing in his head. Well, maybe not that bluntly or aggressively.

Iwaizumi exhaled and rolled his eyes.

“I still have the feeling you exaggerate often,” he accused the brunet, but softened his tone, “I’m not saying to not train, but not to injure yourself. You seem to care too much about volleyball to lose it, so treat your body right.”

Oikawa listened to him in awed silence, feeling something warm swelling in his heart. Before it was too late and his blush too evident, he poked the raven’s cheek with a malicious smirk.

“You’re sooo caring, Agent-san,” he purred in a sultry voice, and Iwaizumi swatted his finger away, reddening.

“Shut up, Trashywaka. Weren’t we playing?”

That worked on Oikawa, and he nodded eagerly, “Your turn again!”

Iwaizumi, actually, hadn’t thought of anything yet, so he blurted out the first thing that came up to his mind.

“Do you live with someone?” Dumb move, even because he already knew the answer.

Oikawa’ smile saddened a bit, but his eyes softened with fondness.

“Nah, my roommate, and best friend, moved out when he married and now I've got a big apartment for myself,” he kept his tone cheery, but it sounded forced to Iwaizumi, “And you?” he changed immediately topic.

The agent bit his tongue, not knowing what to say, and calibrated carefully his words.

“I live alone,” he replied slowly, “And I change place often since I don’t have a reason to take roots.”

Oikawa blinked at the info and the previous shadows seemed to disappear. It was sort of reassuring knowing he wasn’t the only one and… it meant Iwaizumi hadn’t a special partner, right?

“Don’t you ever feel alone? Not having your own place to return? Not having someone to hug or giving you a welcome back?” he asked shifting his eyes around, nervously biting his bottom lip.

Iwaizumi eyed him carefully, feeling the player wasn’t talking about him, and replied in a low, warm voice.

“I work a lot and I do it with my friends, so I feel it less,” he started cautiously, watching as Oikawa shrank a bit, “But, yes, it feels like that sometimes. It’d be nice to have a home,” he finished in a soft whisper, and Oikawa opened in a heartfelt smile, nodding.

“Yeah, I know!” he chirped excitedly, and his tongue slipped before he could stop himself, “Wouldn’t be amazing if we lived together after this?"

Iwaizumi stiffened, unconsciously gripping his hand around Oikawa’s leg.

The brunet gaped in horror realizing what he had just said after nearly a day of knowing the man, and started blabbering to smooth the tension, “I-I mean! I have an enormous apartment and I’m alone, you could crash when you wanted! I don’t know how to cook but we could order and, come on, I know everything so you wouldn’t have to worry about coming back covered in blood. But it was-“

Iwaizumi’s chuckle interrupted him, and Oikawa’s heart stopped.

“Covered in blood?” he repeated amused. His shoulders were still tense, but at least his eyes weren’t that cold anymore. Inside, he was still screaming, panicked over Oikawa’s offer and the sparkle of desire. But…that was absurd, wasn’t it?

“I bet it happened!” Oikawa crossed his arms, lifting his chin.

Iwaizumi hummed thoughtfully and then nodded, “Yeah, sometimes. Blood is a bitch to wash away.“

“I’m good at laundry,” Oikawa boasted with a playful grin, “It took me some tries, and I had pink socks for some months, but now I’m a pro. It would be perfect!”

“It would be a disaster,” Iwaizumi snorted, picturing Oikawa with pink socks, sliding on a bubbly floor.

“A funny, interesting disaster,” Oikawa corrected, a bit too hopefully maybe, but Iwaizumi ruffled roughly his hair.

“Yeah, a funny, interesting disaster,” he murmured with a hidden longing in his eyes, before shaking his head, “Wasn’t my turn?”

Oikawa had to fight the instinct to caress where Iwaizumi’s fingers had just lingered and threw the peace sign.

“Do your worst!”

“Do you regret it?” Iwaizumi had thought about that for hours and, even if he had an idea of what his answer could be, he wanted to hear it from Oikawa, “Not accepting the offer of that player, I mean. Would you refuse again if you knew you were risking your life.”

“No. I don’t regret it.” Oikawa’s voice was unwavering and his eyes firm, filled with seriousness, “Even if they put a knife to my throat, I’d never sell myself. Volleyball is my first love and my biggest treasure, I’d never dishonor us like that. Those bastards can come at me, I’ll still beat their asses on the court. I’ll never bow to anyone.”

They didn’t call him The Grand King for anything, uh?

Iwaizumi smiled, satisfied by his answer, “I wouldn’t like to be your opponent on the court.” And it was true, he had (partially) misjudged Oikawa, there was more in him than what he let be seen. Except for his annoying traits, those were real.

Oikawa tilted his head with a smirk, “You’d be my partner, Agent-san!”

That, that made Iwaizumi blush, and he turned to look at the screen to hide his face.

“Your turn?” he waved mechanically a hand, missing the way Oikawa giggled satisfied at his reaction.

“Best friend?”

“Can’t tell you the name, but a childhood friend with a devastating wit.”

Oikawa bit his lip but accepted the reply, “Mine is Sugawara but maybe you know of him. Or you’ve read of him.” Iwaizumi did not confirm nor deny the accuse and chose the next question.

“Favorite food?” He already knew, but this way he felt less like he was cheating.

“Milk bread, you?”

“Agedashi tofu,” Oikawa muffled a chuckle. “Favorite sport?”

“Baseball and Volleyball, I won’t ask yours.” Iwaizumi relished in the light of Oikawa’s expression when he mentioned the “love of his life”.

“Have you ever played?”

“Wing spiker, in middle school.” The brunet goggled at him, mouth hanging open

“We absolutely have to play together,” Oikawa begged as if it was his dirtiest fantasy, and Iwaizumi nodded before he could realize it.

“Favorite movie, Shittykawa?”

“Star Wars. Yours?”

“Godzilla.”

“Suitable to the brute you are.” Oikawa had to avoid Iwaizumi’s hand, laughing amused.

“How many hours do you sleep per night?” Iwaizumi asked, “Yesterday I didn’t get to sleep thanks to you."

Oikawa grinned sheepishly.

“Sorry, Agent-san, sometimes I get agitated and can’t sleep. I can function with three hours of sleep, but I try to sleep at least six.”

Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes but didn’t comment. Oikawa, except for the practice thing, didn’t seem the type to purposefully endanger his own health.

“Boys or girls? I’m bi, by the way.” Oikawa asked, imperceptibly more tentatively this time around. However, Iwaizumi was waiting for a question like that and wasn’t disturbed at all.

“Boys.” Oikawa would have liked to stand up, open the window and howl his satisfaction to the moon. Instead, he only smiled with glittering eyes and waited for Iwaizumi’s question. The boy took a little more time to think.

There was something that was bugging him, but he felt nervous at asking. He mulled it over, scratching the back of his neck, and finally exhaled with a frown creasing his forehead.

“Why…” he started slowly, searching for the right words, “Why you don’t call me Hiri-chan in private?” He had noticed that strange occurrence through the night and for some reasons it was really disturbing him.

Oikawa seemed to freeze for a moment and instantly worn his polite facade with a shining, perfect smile. Iwaizumi frowned deeper.

“It’s just…” Oikawa fidgeted uncomfortably, swallowing, and then his voice came out in a quiet, fragile murmur, “…I don’t want to get attached to a false name.”

Iwaizumi held his breath.

He should have steeled himself and told Oikawa he shouldn’t have gotten attached to him at all. He should have invented an excuse and sent him to bed before it was too late. He should have returned to his own room because it wasn’t possible that Oikawa was doing that too him in such a small time. Iwaizumi didn’t believe in soulmate or love at first sight, he had had to protect weak partners from their abusive special others too many times.

Yet, there he was, relief washing over him and warmth cradling his heart because yes, he didn’t want Oikawa to get attached to a fake name too. Instead, he felt the temptation to tell him the real one, just to hear the brunet pronouncing it.

He had to physically restrain himself by clenching his fists.

Oikawa was still eyeing him on the edge, fearing that it was the word that finally was going to make Iwaizumi stand and flee from the room. He really couldn’t shut up, didn’t he?

_“Tooru, are you sure? She was a nice girl!” Sugawara flopped on the bed beside him, and Oikawa groaned as his best friend stole his magazine._

_“I didn’t feel like she was the right one,” he shrugged trying to retrieve it, but Sugawara raised it out of his reach. “Don’t worry Kou-chan, I’m fine as I am. Single, happy and free."_

_“I’m just worried at leaving you here alone,” Sugawara’s eyes were tainted with worry, and Oikawa smoothed with a finger the creases on his forehead._

_“Stop being such a mom and marry your Mr. Ideal Husband,” Oikawa joked lightly, “You know how I am, I don’t want to things half-heartedly.”_

_“You mean a sappy, romantic, hopeless dork who sucks at flirting when it matters the most?” Sugawara asked with a teasing grin, tickling his side._

_Oikawa squeaked and nearly fell from the bed; luckily, he managed to block his evil best friend in time and smirked, eyes fierce and blazing._

_“Not that, you Meany,” he gave just a half-hearted glare, “You know my motto “If you hit it, hit it until it breaks.” For me, love is like that too. I’m just waiting for something worthy to hit.”_

  


Oikawa, since childhood, had always had a knack for being able to do everything perfectly and enviably except for the things that mattered the most to him. 

He was already thinking of standing up and excusing himself to hole up in the bathroom when Iwaizumi let out a short laugh, and his heart clenched so hard Oikawa dramatically thought he was going to die.

“You’re helpless,” the raven muttered rolling his eyes, and Oikawa nearly cried in relief. It hadn’t been the best answer he could hope for, but at least he didn’t seem angry nor intentioned to flee.

That meant only one thing.

“I don’t know what you’re referring too,” he pouted exaggeratedly, and Iwaizumi scoffed, smoothly changing the topic with another question about his friends.

Oikawa had one chance to fight.

_“If you hit it, hit it until it breaks.”_

 

It was nearly two in the morning and Oikawa had finally fallen asleep, breathing lightly as he hugged a cushion to his chest, forehead resting against Iwaizumi’s shoulder in a position the raven deemed more than uncomfortable. He was still watching X-Files, having to admit it wasn’t that bad, when his watch emitted a short beep.

Iwaizumi frowned and immediately pushed the small button on the side, as the transceiver in his ear buzzed to life.

“Silver?” he whispered, eyeing the sleeping brunet. He had taken so long to fall asleep that Iwaizumi couldn’t risk waking him up again.

 _“Iwaizumi-san, how everything’s going?”_ Okay, the fact Akaashi wasn’t calling him by his codename nor bombarding orders into his ear meant it wasn’t a red code emergency, and Iwaizumi exhaled in relief.

“Fine,” he muttered, “Better than I thought. He’s sleeping now.”

Akaashi chuckled.

_“If you say it like that, in your language it means you like him, Iwaizumi-san.”_

The agent could see Akaashi smirking like a cat playing with the mouse, and he growled.

“Have you something to tell me or you just wanted company? Where is your owl boyfriend?”

His teammate turned serious, his voice getting sharper as he explained the reason for the call.

_“Golden Owl and Black Panther are checking the border of the gigantic villa. We’ve noticed strange movements at some point, but now everything is calm again. Captain has warned us there’s something moving into the yakuza’s headquarter, so I’m afraid they’ll make a move soon.”_

Iwaizumi’s eyes sharpened, and his body tensed as if he was going to fight on spot.

“I’m ready anytime,” he muttered, a rush of cold adrenaline rushing through his veins.

Then, he felt a piercing glare onto his face and snapped his head to the right, finding Oikawa’s focused stare trained on him. The boy was studying, analyzing him in a way that sent the alarms off in Iwaizumi’s mind.

_“Check the cameras tonight. I don’t think they’ll attack now, but we can’t risk it.”_

“Fine,” he cut off, not wanting to say anything else with Oikawa awake; he seemed the type who wanted to get involved in everything and ended up doing stupid shit. But it was too late.

_“He’s listening?” Akaashi was perceptive as usual._

“Yeah.”

_“You don’t want to scare him?”_

“Shut up.”

_“I’ll take that as a yes,” Akaashi chuckled, “I’ll leave you to it now, Iwaizumi-san. Sorry for interrupting your date.”_

“Oi you dem-” His friend hanged up, and Iwaizumi hit the armrest with a frustrated, embarrassed growl. He hated his friends.

“They are coming?” Oikawa asked quietly as if he was reasoning on the next play to call.

Iwaizumi roughly shoved him away and stood up, stretching.

“Not now, if we’re lucky. Go back to sleep,” he ordered reaching his black bags, in search of his pc.

Oikawa didn’t even whine and just gracefully stumbled down the couch, following the raven.

“I’m awake now, let me help you,” he hummed bouncing around him and studying critically his devices.

“Don’t be an idiot and sleep, I’m trying to work,” Iwaizumi barked, trying to set up everything. He didn’t want to involve Oikawa more than he already was and, in particular, he knew how distracting the brunet could be. Iwaizumi needed to be focused to protect him efficiently.

“Pleaseee,” Oikawa begged, “I’m awake! Totally awake, I can’t sleep. Especially knowing the bad guys are coming. I don’t want them to find me unconscious!” Maybe, just maybe, there was a slightly hysterical pitch in his voice.

Iwaizumi sighed rubbing his eyes and turned to him, “Oikawa, trust me. Nobody is coming tonight and you need to rest. And even if they came, I’m here to save your shitty ass, so stop worrying.”

Oikawa crossed his arms and lifted his chin, stubbornly refusing to return to bed.

“I’ll stay in silence, let me keep you company.”

Iwaizumi clenched his jaw, irritated by his antics.

“No, you wouldn’t and you just want to snoop around. Go to bed.”

Oikawa narrowed his eyes, offended.

“You can’t force me,” he hissed.

At that, Iwaizumi arched an eyebrow and crossed his arms too. Oikawa would have enjoyed the view of his tense, broad chest and bulky arms, but he was too busy being annoyed by being treated like a child.

“Last warning Oikawa, last warning.” Iwaizumi’s voice was cold and threatening, a low rumble. “Go. To. Fucking. Bed.”

The brunet pressed his lips together and shook his head.

The agent huffed and shrugged.

“You asked for this.”

“Ag-”

Before Oikawa could understand what was going on, Iwaizumi landed a swift, precise hit on his neck and the boy lost consciousness. The raven managed to catch his body before he could fall, murmuring insults at his height.

“I bet that if I let you fall, you’ll never stop complaining tomorrow,” he mumbled putting an arm around his waist and one under his knees, “Hell, what I’m saying? After this, you’re surely going to be a little shit for the rest of the week. Why you have to be so stubborn?” He picked up Oikawa bridal style and carried him to the bed, thanking his years of training.

Even if he was still scowling and denying that he actually admired Oikawa’s tenacity, Iwaizumi put him down gently on the mattress and tucked his blankets properly. When he finished, he lost some seconds watching the boy’s peaceful expression.

“And you’re so annoyingly handsome when you shut up, Shittykawa,” he finally complained with a frustrated groan, marching back towards his improvised workstation. The problem was, Iwaizumi knew he liked him even when he didn’t.


	3. Fitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa observed the abrupt change of expression on Iwaizumi’s face and felt his blood freezing. He knew what it meant, the furrowed brows, the clenched jaw, the burning eyes…he knew.
> 
> They were coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was starting to think this ff wasn't good enough to be updated, yet I received a lovely comment that changed my mind! It's the first multichapter ff I've finished writing, so I want to post every one of them!
> 
> I hope you'll like it, let me know in the comments! <3

Iwaizumi shouldn’t have been surprised that, as predicted, he had underestimated Oikawa once again.

But, to be honest, that level of pettiness was something he had never seen before.

 

He had been right: Oikawa had decided to be shitty and petty to avenge the offense of having been knocked unconscious.

“…and he nearly begged me to let him take a photo of me, he was so desperate I couldn’t refuse him,” Oikawa told his female fan club, who giggled and awed loudly, shamefully staring at Iwaizumi.

The secret agent clenched his jaw so hard he could hear the teeth cracking, but managed to remain impassible. And red, but thankfully that could be interpreted as bashfulness -fitting Oikawa’ story- and not to the murderous rage he was feeling.

“He stumbled when I took his hand for the first time!”

At first, that morning, Iwaizumi had naively believed that Oikawa would have punished him only with the silent treatment, since the brunet hadn’t spoken a single word to the raven while they prepared and walked to the dining room, but, unfortunately, the brunet was only waiting for the right scenario to fulfill his revenge: Embarrass Iwaizumi in every way possible.

“His cuteness is captivating, I swear, I know right now he is being shy,” Oikawa continued, completely draped over the boy sitting next to him, “But he’s the softest, most tender and attentive guy I’ve ever accepted to date. Right, Hiri-chan?” he asked, artfully tilting his head to meet Iwaizumi’s eyes.

“Right…” he hissed through gritted teeth, but luckily the ladies were too busy squealing to hear his growl, in clear contrast with the rosy image of the shy fan, completely head over heels for the great Oikawa, that the brunet himself had depicted until now.

Oikawa’s fake, soft gaze sharpened, and he smirked satisfied. He tightened his grip on Iwaizumi’s neck and straightened so he could whisper into his ear.

“Come on, Hiri-chan, treat me right or you’ll blow up our cover,” he purred slyly, and Iwaizumi felt his self-control cracking.

He put a hand behind the brunet’s nape and pulled him closer until his lips were brushing again the delicate skin of Oikawa’s ear.

“Don’t tempt me, Shittykawa,” he growled lowly, sending shivers down his spine, “I’m already thinking of letting them have your sorry ass…”

The girls squealed loudly, and Oikawa jerked back.

Iwaizumi noticed a faint blush on his cheeks as he pouted annoyed, and smirked satisfied. The pretty boy wanted to play with fire? He was fucking ready.

“Not professional,” the brunet hissed under his breath, making sure to plant the chin with all his strength into Iwaizumi’s chest as he hugged him again.

The agent grimaced for a fraction of second but retaliated by wrapping an arm around the brunet's waist and pinching his side. Oikawa muffled a yelp.

“You’re so lovey-dovey…” a lady sighed happily, gazing at them.

“You can’t even imagine…” the two muttered in unison, faking a polite smile.

Their public cheered joyfully and started again with the questions.

“Have you kissed yet?” one asked ravenously.

Oikawa lighted up, and the agent knew he was going to regret not smacking his head against the table before he could answer.

“Not yet!” He chirped, before winking at them, “You know, _virgins_ like to take it slow…”

The girls shrilled.

_“So pure, Iwaizumi-san,” Akaashi smirked in his ear. Bokuto and Kuroo were cackling like hysterical hyenas in the background._

Iwaizumi swore that, in one way or another, he would have made Oikawa Tooru pay.

 

 

“Eh, Hiri-chan?” Oikawa grinned mischievously, “Do you want me to go with you even to the bathroom?”

Iwaizumi didn’t bother answering and continued dragging the boy towards the restroom.

“Silver, is it free?”

_“Yes, it is.” The other agent wisely decided to avoid commenting on the course of action of his teammate, clearly on the verge of exploding._

“Good.”

Iwaizumi kicked the door open, threw Oikawa inside, slammed it closed and roughly pushed the brunet against the wall.

“I’ve had enough,” he growled with pure, cold rage, as he banged the hands at the sides of his head.

The other man stared at him with wide eyes. Leaving alone the fact that the agent pining him to the wall, caught in his fury, was annoyingly hot and Oikawa felt weak, he may have been aware that maybe he had exaggerated a little. Especially if taking into account that Hiri-chan was probably capable of snapping his neck in two. However, he was still offended by the treatment of the night before, especially after the nice let’s-open-to-each-other moment they’d had. So, fuck it, he wasn’t going to take the first step back.

“Of what?” he asked, faking indifference. He crossed his arms and gave him a mighty glance; Oikawa didn’t want him to see even an ounce of his fear.

“You’ve had your little revenge and embarrassed me all morning,” Iwaizumi spoke slowly and calmly, and somehow it was even scarier than if he had started screaming, “Now, stop it. I’m working and you’re exaggerating. I can’t allow it.”

Oikawa frowned, “Or what? You’ll hit me?” he hissed.

Iwaizumi slammed again his hands against the wall and Oikawa quivered.

“Stop being an idiot! There’s no way I would hit you for real! Even if you make it sound like a wonderful idea,” he roared, glaring daggers at the boy.

“Well, you already did!” Oikawa argued, clenching his jaw.

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, “I put you to sleep because I had to work.”

“I didn’t want to! And I’m not a child!” Oikawa’s voice trembled with repressed anger, the hurt was visible in his eyes.

“You promised to do what I say,” Iwaizumi observed more calmly. He was starting to realize what had really ticked off the brunet and was willing to settle things peacefully instead of using force.

At his words, Oikawa scowled harder, but the flames in his eyes dimmed.

“There was no need to hit me…” he repeated stubbornly.

Iwaizumi took a deep breath and mustered all his self-control.

“Oikawa, I’m not treating you like a child. I’m treating you like a person I have to protect,” he explained, softening his rough tone, “If you can’t follow my instructions, it can be dangerous for yours and my safety. I need you to behave in cases of need, you can’t get in the way of my job.”

That…that stung.

The brunet deflated and lowered his eyes; Iwaizumi could see his remorse in the way he bit his bottom lip and averted the eyes.

“Oikawa?”

The brunet scrunched his nose and clenched his fists, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to… get in the way of your job.”

Iwaizumi finally relaxed and felt all his anger and stress vanish. With the shadow of a smile on the lips, he gently ruffled his soft locks.

“I’m sorry too, for reacting too harshly, I didn’t want you to feel belittled” he apologized in a murmur.

Oikawa’s head perked up and his mouth curved into a surprised “o”.

“I-it’s okay…” he stuttered, taken aback by Iwaizumi’s apology.

The raven was relieved to see that any trace of fury or hurt seemed, for now, to have disappeared from his doe eyes; mirth suited them better and-

_“Holy shit! He’s just apologized!” Bokuto’s voice pierced his eardrum._

_“He liiiiiiikes him.”_

_“I ship it!”_

“Fuck!” Iwaizumi frowned, “Shut up!”

“What?” Oikawa blurted, shocked.

“Ah, not you.”

_“Nice kabedon, Iwa,” Kuroo chuckled, “Very sexy.”_

Iwaizumi jerked back from that ambiguous position as if the wall had caught on fire, his cheeks red with embarrassment. He was so busy cursing and insulting his friends, that he completely missed the way Oikawa pouted at his move.

Now that they were having a nice moment and the agent was smiling, there his friends ruined- Wait, his friends?

Oikawa’s eyes sparkled as he threw himself over Iwaizumi.

“Are they your friends? Your teammates?” he asked curiously, before leaning against his ear, “HELLO FRIENDS OF HIRI-CHAN!”

“FUCK OIKAWA!” Iwaizumi yelled, shoving him off. He had pierced his eardrum!

“CAN YOU HEAR ME?!”

“Yes, they can! Don’t scream! Fuck!”

Kuroo and Bokuto were laughing so loudly they risked to suffocate.

_“Hiri-chan! I am a genius!” Kuroo cackled._

_“Can we adopt him?”_

_“Obviously we can adopt him’”_

“Motherfuckers…” Iwaizumi, growled, trying to keep the brunet at distance.

“IT’S NICE TO MEET YOU! HIRI-CHAN IS VERY GRUMPY!”

“Damn Oikawa!” Iwaizumi smacked his head, “Where’s Silver?”

_“He had a check to do and left us here!_

“Fantastic.”

“Hiri-chan! Let me talk to them!” Oikawa whined, pulling his arm, but the man flicked his forehead.

“No way!”

“But Hiri-chan!”

“Don’t be a pest Shittikawa, I already told you they can hear you anyway.”

Oikawa beamed happily.

_“Oh my God. Flirting with a boy in front of your mother!” Kuroo faked an outraged gasp, “You don’t have any sense decency.”_

“You’re disgusting!” Iwaizumi grimaced.

“I’m not disgusting!” Oikawa pouted.

“Damn! Not you!” Iwaizumi panicked, “Fuck you Black…” hissed under his breath as the other agent laughed loudly.

_“Can you tell Oikawa I say hi?” Bokuto meddled, “And that I’m his fan! I’d love to hit his tosses!”_

“No, Golden,” he replied sternly, but the other man let out a high-pitched screech. Akaashi called that the “owl cry”, and Bokuto used it to whine when he wanted something. And the only way to shut him up was surrendering or knock him unconscious.

“I’ll kill you!” Iwaizumi growled, but the other kept producing that hellish sound, “Okay! Okay! Fine! Stop!”

Oikawa was observing him amused, maybe slightly perplexed. And curious, incredibly curious. There it was another nuance of the secret agent whose job was protecting his life, a man he knew nothing about. Nothing, but he wanted to know so bad. So, so bad.

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi, pinching the bridge of his nose out of exasperation, cleared his throat, “My…stupid friend, Golden, says hi.”

Oikawa snorted, hiding his mouth.

“Hi?”

_“IWAAAAAAA”_

“And that he’s your fan and would gladly hit your tosses,” he added, and the man stopped yelling his name.

Oikawa smiled warmly.

“Thank you, Golden-san! I’d love to play with you as well!” He assured, waving his hand unsure, not knowing if they could see him or not.

“There,” Iwaizumi grunted, crossing his arms, “Happy now?”

_“YES!”_

_“I really want this guy with us,” Kuroo added, “Please, marry him.”_

_“YES PLEASE. IT WOULD BE GREAT!”_

_“Iwaizumi, don’t disappoint us.”_

Iwaizumi hid his eyes behind the palm. He couldn’t survive their stupidity.

Luckily, Akaashi arrived to save him from that torture.

_“Move!”_

_“Com’on Akas-”_

_“Koutarou. Now.” Startled by the sudden seriousness, Iwaizumi could hear Bokuto literally pushing Kuroo on the ground to make space for his boyfriend. The boy crashed into his chair and grabbed the microphone to talk with Iwaizumi, that had already tensed up._

_“Iwaizumi, they’re on the move. The group is agitated. We’ve heard rumors, it seems they have one of theirs infiltrated as a guest too.”_

Oikawa observed the abrupt change of expression on Iwaizumi’s face and felt his blood freezing. He knew what it meant, the furrowed brows, the clenched jaw, and the burning eyes…he knew.

They were coming.

_“Don’t leave him alone, at any cost. I’ll send Black and Golden to guard the perimeter, but we can’t do anything for the one inside. He’s yours.”_

“Don’t worry,” Iwaizumi replied icily, “He won’t be able to touch Oikawa.”

Shivers ran down the brunet’s spine at the mention of his name in _that_ tone of voice and, for a moment, he even forgot the imminent threat. The secret agent in front of him was the only thing filling his thoughts. He was so screwed, he was sort of high-school-first-crush pathetic.

They exchanged some more information before Iwaizumi cut off the communications. He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders, as he molded the tense expression in a relaxed one.

“Come on,” he told Oikawa, “We’ve to return to the party.”

“They’re coming,” the other replied, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeves. He would have liked to hide the tremor in his voice, but they were talking about Yakuza. Yakuza. He would have been a fool if he hadn’t been scared.

Oikawa was a fighter, he never backed down, he never bowed. On the court, he was a force to reckon. But he was also a twenty-four guy who still had a lot of dreams to fulfill and experiences to live before dying. He was, simply put, not ready to say goodbye. Not yet.

Iwaizumi’s green eyes softened, and he walked to the man, gently taking his hand.

“I already told you, Shittykawa, until I’m here, nobody will hurt you,” he reassured him in a murmur, making sure to meet his gaze, “I’ll protect you, okay? I’ll protect you. Don’t worry.”

Oikawa swallowed, but the determination in the agent’s eyes didn’t leave space for doubts, so he nodded and squeezed his hand back.

“I don’t want to die…” he admitted in a small, frail whisper. His brown eyes were blown wide, and he let all his walls fall, he let him in, with the hope of finding someone ready to keep his pieces together.

And Iwaizumi was there, with the steel resolution and adamant will to protect Oikawa.

“You won’t,” Iwaizumi eyes burned with fierce determination, “I won’t let you die. Never.”

“Can you promise me?”

“Yes,” Iwaizumi replied without batting an eyelash, brushing away the chestnut locks from his eyes and lingering with the fingers on his skin, “I’ll keep you safe, they won’t get near you and in two weeks you’ll be fighting on your favorite court again, perfectly unharmed. I can promise it over my life.”

Oikawa stretched a weak smile, “You really like your job,” he joked, mourning the loss of contact when Iwaizumi retracted the hand.

But Iwaizumi tilted the head and his forehead creased.

“It’s not just my job,” he said slowly, swallowing his common sense, but he had never liked lying and he wanted at least for Oikawa to know that, “I truly want to keep you safe. So, please, don’t do anything stupid and let me protect you.”

The brunet stared at him as his cheeks caught fire.

“F-fine…” he stuttered, suddenly looking at the floor, “But please don’t die on me. I could never live with that regret!”

The agent scoffed, “Don’t worry, I’m tougher than what I look like, I’m not an alpha agent for nothing,” he assured confidently.

Oikawa let out a nervous chuckle, “And I thought I was the egocentric one.”

Iwaizumi shrugged, “That’s probably why they’ve assigned you to me,” joked, making the other grin.

They fell again into a comfortable silence, and Iwaizumi waited for Oikawa to find his composure; he observed quietly how the boy stabilized his own breaths and cleaned his expression from any sign of fear.

“Are you ready?” Iwaizumi asked softly.

Oikawa grimaced, “Can’t we lock ourselves in my room?”

“I’m afraid not,” the other chuckled.

The raven offered a small smile and hooked their arms together, pulling slowly Oikawa out of the restroom. He didn’t say a single word about how Oikawa held tight on him nor about the way his voice was slightly higher when he spoke again, and the brunet appreciated it from the bottom of his heart.

“You know what awaits us now, Hiri-chan?” Oikawa whispered in his ear, “Forgetting the whole avoid-getting-murdered thing, obviously.”

The man snorted, “What?”

“It’s time for the official photos together!”

“Oh hell.”

 

An hour later, they were in the garden with all the other guests, getting bombarded with photos. Oikawa was a natural, he looked good in every photo and didn’t seem tired of it no matter how many times he was asked to pose for. Iwaizumi, on the other side, felt like dying. He was stiff and his smile just a shadow, not used to being photographed; all the professionals hired to capture the happiness of the guests looked at him with pity or frustration.

Luckily, the news about their relationship had spread like fire, so everyone knew about Iwaizumi and allowed him to follow Oikawa or be in the photos with him without many questions; not that he would have accepted a different arrangement after Akaashi’s warning. He refused to leave the man’ side at any cost.

It happened in a second, while they were talking during a break; Oikawa was poking fun at him for drinking juice like a child instead of wine -not that Iwaizumi had a choice, he was on duty – and Iwaizumi was replying with some jokes about Oikawa’s childish behavior.

The brunet suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled him closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders; he caught Iwaizumi mid-laugh as he chirped “Cheese!”, and he had just the time to turn his eyes to the camera before the flash blinded him.

Oikawa let out a thrill of joy and rushed to the man who held an old Polaroid, while Iwaizumi rubbed his eyes, deeply confused about what had just happened.

“Oi Oikawa!”

But the man didn’t answer, staring with wide eyes full of stars at the photo in his hands. Hypnotized, in a total, blissful awe.

Frowning, Iwaizumi reached him and peeked over his shoulder.

At first, he was too busy gazing at Oikawa’s wide and genuine smile, with shining and mirthful eyes, to notice what had captured Oikawa’s heart; then, he realized he was laughing. Since Oikawa had moved suddenly, the Iwaizumi in the photo was still laughing, the eyes were glinting and his lopsided smile was bright and adorned with dimples that had stolen Oikawa’s breath.

It was a photo of them, being happy together.

“I love it,” Oikawa whispered, tracing their profile with a finger, “Can I keep it?” He raised his eyes to Iwaizumi, hopefully. The agent had already informed him that, after the mission, all the photos of him were going to be deleted.

“Please, I beg you,” Oikawa prayed, biting nervously the inside of his cheek.

Iwaizumi was still staring at them, as surprised as the brunet had been, because…he seemed happy. He didn’t have many photos of himself being genuinely happy, with a proper smile. Yet, there he was, hugging a beautiful man and laughing with him as a match made by heaven. Damn, he didn’t like to brag nor he thought highly of himself, but he couldn’t avoid thinking they looked good together; not only from an aesthetical point of view, but it was the way their gaze met and their bodies latched to each other.

It was absurd seeing it from outside, he could have never imagined they could look like that. Now, he partially understood Oikawa’s fangirls excitement that morning.

Iwaizumi felt, for the first time, the scary, thrilling sensation of fitting together with another person. He fitted with Oikawa. Maybe he was just being delusional, but the longer he watched it, the stronger he felt it. They matched. They should have been like that, he wanted that.

“Hiri-chan?”

Iwaizumi snapped back from his thoughts and shook his head.

“Ah? You…can, but you’ve to promise to never show it to anyone, anyone. Or I’ll personally burn it,” he replied roughly, averting his eyes. Because yes, they fitted and yes, Iwaizumi wanted that, but the truth was he was just working as Oikawa’s bodyguard and soon everything would end. They lived in different worlds that weren’t meant to mix.

Okawa deflated a little at his sudden scowl, believing that Iwaizumi was angry for having been forced to take another photo; probably, after the end of that week, it was going to be a mess deleting all those pieces of evidence of his existence. But Oikawa needed that, he needed a proof of those days, a proof that the agent had been with him and protected him. A memory, something to look at and remember what it felt matching together with another person, clicking like they were made to be side by side from the start; even if he couldn’t have the man, he could at least have the physical memory.

“Oikawa-san! Please come!” A man interrupted their shared, painful silence and literally dragged him away toward the center of the garden, for the final photos with the other important guests. Iwaizumi followed him like a shadow and waited near the photographer, his eyes glued to Oikawa, bearing such an intensity that the brunet could feel his cheeks reddening.

He sighed, as he was pulled into a group hug by the others.

“I just want to tell him…” he thought, glancing at the raven, “I just want to have a chance.”

“Alright! It’s the end, for today!”

Oikawa was walking toward Iwaizumi, who was waiting patiently while scanning the surrounding, when his phone vibrated, distracting him. Curious about the sudden text, he slowed down and quickly unlocked it. Maybe it was Suga.

Ah, the sender was unknown.

He opened it.

His eyes widened, his heart halted, and his mind shattered.

**“Don’t say a word or your boyfriend dies. Don’t call for help, don’t scream, don’t panic. Do what I tell you or we shoot him.”**


	4. To Protect You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa couldn’t let this happen either. Them not knowing his real identity was their trump card, he had to make sure to protect the secret.
> 
> That meant avoiding the agent could make small, ambiguous comments on the mission for the entire day, especially after their return to the bedroom and…
> 
> That was it.
> 
> That was the idea.
> 
> It was embarrassing, it was a gamble and it was all Oikawa had.
> 
> He had to try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI! THIS IS MY FAVE CHAPTER OF THIS FF, SO I'M VERY EXCITED! I really hope you'll enjoy it!
> 
> (Slight NSFW ahead :3)

> **_Don’t say a word or your boyfriend dies. Don’t call for help, don’t scream, don’t panic. Do what I tell you or we shoot him.”_ **

 

Oikawa’s world shattered.

His breath hitched, and the pulse of his heart quickened, thundering in his ears.

It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be.

“Oikawa?”

The brunet jolted as the unknown hand grabbed his wrist, the phone fell from his trembling hands. Raising his eyes, he met green.

“Is everything alright?”

Agent-san. His agent.

Oikawa felt like crying and crashing into his arms, against his firm and safe chest, but he couldn’t. Moving on reflex, he quickly bent to pick up the phone.

“Y-yes it’s fine…” He stuttered unconvincingly. He caught sight of another message.

> _“Find an excuse.”_

“Are you sure?” Iwaizumi pressed, narrowing the eyes.

“Sure, why, Hiri-chan?”

The agent looked at the way he clutched desperately the phone and raised an eyebrow: that wasn’t fine. That was fear and chaos.

“Oikawa, who wrote you?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Oikawa stuttered something.

“Oikawa.”

He had to find an excuse. He couldn’t let Iwaizumi know. He had to protect him.

Everything, he needed just-

“Suga!” He squealed panicking.

Iwaizumi blinked, confused.

“Suga?” He repeated, clearly not buying it, “Your best friend?”

If Oikawa couldn’t lie, then he would have had to mislead him.

He nodded, without trying to hide his panic anymore.

“He’s just texted to me he’s had a big fight with his husband! He’s told me he has left the house! It’s the middle of the night in Japan!” He explained gesturing widely with his hands, “Oh my God he has nowhere to go! What if it happens something to him? What if he gets lost or hurt or-?”

“Oikawa, Oikawa, slow down,” Iwaizumi took him by the shoulders, with a gentle but firm tone, “Slow down.”

“He’s my best friend!” Oikawa muttered with glassy eyes, _I’m sorry for lying_ , he added in his mind.

“I know, but you need to stay lucid. Has he said anything else?” Iwaizumi spoke calmly as he rubbed small circles on the brunet’ shoulders, reassuringly.

He had bought it.

Oikawa shook his head.

_I don’t want to, please don’t hate me,_ he thought again.

“Then, first try to understand what’s happening, then we’ll think about what to do. I know you’re worried, but Sugawara is a capable adult. Maybe right now he’s only speaking out of rage and hasn’t left home yet.”

Iwaizumi was trying so hard to be helpful, to comfort him, that Oikawa’s guilt only grew. He could feel a knot in his throat. What if this was the wrong choice? What if lying would have hurt them more?

He had to think. He had to calm down and think.

“C-can I sit down and text him?” Oikawa whispered, and Iwaizumi nodded immediately, gently guiding him to a chair.

“Can I do something for you?” The raven asked softly, brushing the hair out of his eyes.

Oikawa pointed at the chair in front of him, “Can you stay with me?” _And, possibly, where you can’t look at my phone?_

Iwaizumi chuckled, “Sure, I’m not going anywhere, I told you.”

The agent sat down and let him focus on his phone.

Oikawa let out a small sigh of relief.

Alright, the first emergency had been avoided.

Now, he needed to think. He needed to understand what to do.

Who were them? Where were they? How were they spying on him?

> _“Wow, nice act, Oikawa-chan!  I’m also worried about Suga now.”_

Oikawa clenched his teeth. This bastard even dared to joke.

_“What do you want?” he texted back._

> _“Meet us tonight in the garden. Alone. We’ve things to sort out.”_

_“Who are you?”_

> _“People mad at you, princess. Do what I told you.”_

_“What if I refuse?”_

> _“Your plain boyfriend is getting shot. Neat and simple.”_

“Fucker,” Oikawa muttered.

“Suga? Or the husband?” Iwaizumi asked, genuinely worried.

The brunet stifled a smile, “He’s being a baby and made me worry for nothing. He’s closed in the bathroom.”

Iwaizumi chuckled and resumed scanning the surrounding.

> _“Wow, that’s not a nice word. I wouldn’t call uncute things the guy with the gun.”_

Fine, they could hear him. Pretty clearly too, since he had only whispered. But, what about…

Slowly, trying not to catch Iwaizumi’s attention, he raised a middle finger in the air. He felt stupid but kept the hand there and waited.

No new messages.

They couldn’t see him.

Oikawa smirked: finally, an opening.

He returned texting.

_“If I come, will you let Hiri-chan alone?”_

> _“Yeah, we’re not interested in the nerd. Unless you make us mad.”_

Oikawa let out a small grin.

Fucking idiots.

They didn’t know about the agent’s real identity.

“Better?” Iwaizumi patiently asked.

Gosh, he was really worried about his best friend. Oikawa’s heart throbbed.

“Yeah, better, you were right,” he replied with evident relief. It wasn’t a lie: Finding those small openings had already helped him calm down.

He felt like he had a chance.

He just had to put all the pieces in the right places, he couldn’t risk making the smallest mistake.

Oikawa closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

His objective was to protect Hiri-chan.

So, the easiest course of action would have been doing as the Yakuza asked and sacrifice himself. Problems with this solution? He was sure he would have never been able to escape the agent’s surveillance, and he risked blowing up the cover altogether.

And…

 

**_“I truly want to keep you safe. So, please, don’t do anything stupid and let me protect you.”_ **

****

He had promised, he had promised to trust him and let the agent protect him. Sacrificing himself just to leave the weight of his own death on the agent’ shoulders? How egoist. He would have never forgiven himself for that. He couldn’t damn Iwaizumi to a life of regret.

There had to be a better solution.

_Think, Tooru, think!_

He had to let him know they were being spied, he had to trust the agent he could protect them both. If he had told him, Oikawa was sure he would have known what to do.

But how?

Writing on a piece of paper?

Risky.

Oikawa looked around; with every probability, the infiltrated man had put something on him as they took the photos, and that meant he was out there. Even if there wasn’t a camera, he could have been watching; and what if there were snipers? Oh hell, why he hadn’t thought before about the snipers? No, he couldn’t reveal it in public.

Then, it had to happen in the bedroom.

But in the bedroom, Hiri-chan would return to be Agent-san, and it would blow the cover.

Oikawa couldn’t let this happen either. Them not knowing his real identity was their trump card, he had to make sure to protect the secret.

That meant avoiding the agent could make small, ambiguous comments on the mission for the entire day, especially after their return to the bedroom and…

That was it.

That was the idea.

It was embarrassing, it was a gamble and it was all Oikawa had.

He had to try.

 

In one way or another, Oikawa had survived until that night without getting them shot. It hadn’t been easy since the agent sometimes would lean and try to whisper him something about the situation, but Oikawa promptly stopped him by either talking over him or stuffing his face with food. Except for that one time he had moved the fork too quickly and risked stabbing his cheek, it had worked fine. Sure, the agent was suspicious and unnerved, but that was exactly what Oikawa wanted. He didn’t know what the agent was suspecting, but it was enough.

Especially because he was going to embarrass himself to death in the next ten minutes, so the agent had better understand quickly.

Oh shit, now he was feeling nervous for the wrong reasons.

_It’s a life or death situation, try to act cool,_ he repeated to himself, but he really felt like passing out. His legs were trembling and his hands sweating enough to make him highly uncomfortable. What if the man punched him? Shit. Shit. Shit.

He hated Yakuza.

 

“Oikawa?” the agent called him for the second time as they walked down the empty corridor, towards his bedroom.

The brunet jerked with a terrified expression.

“YES?”

Iwaizumi blinked, unsure if he wanted to laugh at the ridiculous face he was making or get mad at him for hiding something.

He didn’t know what it was, but he was sure Oikawa was hiding something and didn’t want to talk about it. Whatever it was, Iwaizumi needed to know. He had a bad feeling.

“Are you sure everything alright?” He asked in a mutter, eyeing him not convinced.

Oikawa faked another smile and nodded, “Yes, Hiri-chan!”

Iwaizumi really hated that stupid smile. Fake, fake, fake.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Oikawa squeezed his hand. Hard.

A desperate urgency shined in his eyes.

_Don’t ask._

With a growl, Iwaizumi stopped in front of their bedroom door and searched for the keys. Once they were alone, Oikawa wouldn’t have any way to escape his questions.

> _“Remember. Alone. 3AM. Or he’s dead.”_

_“I know. I’ll make sure he won’t be able to stand by that hour.”_

> _“Wow, you’re so bold and passionate. Maybe we can have fun later.”_

Oikawa’s blood went cold.

He gulped and tried to muster his courage.

Everything was going to work out.

He just had one thing to do.

Only one.

“I missed you.” He blurted those words before he could realize. He felt his cheeks growing warmer.

Iwaizumi, with the key in his hand, froze. He slowly raised the eyes to meet his, flabbergasted.

Oikawa bit his bottom lip, shaking. This was so stupid. So embarrassing.

“I missed being alone with you,” he repeated, lowering the voice in a purr.

The other man was still staring at him, speechless. Oikawa could almost see his brain trying to understand what the fuck was going on.

The brunt felt like crying. The worst thing was that part of him wanted what was going to happen, but not like that. Not forcing it on him, not because he had to save their lives, not just as an act. He would have wanted it to be better, he would have wanted to find a way to treasure their relationship and let it grow naturally. Tooru would have wanted to respect and treasure the feelings he was starting to harbor.

But that wasn’t an option anymore.

He could only hope the raven would not hate it, or him afterward.

“I-” Iwaizumi tried to speak, but his mouth had gone dry. Had he really heard it right? There must have been a mistake. It wasn’t possible. But there Oikawa was, with red cheeks and dark eyes.

Fuck, he was beautiful.

“Do you need help, Hiri-chan?” Oikawa giggled, teasingly, and leaned to take the key from his hand. Their fingers brushed, and Iwaizumi could have sworn he had felt the electricity in the air.

“You’re so helpless,” the other continued, smirking.

There was something wrong.

There was.

But Iwaizumi was too distracted by the man being so close, by his words and the sweet tone to remember what.

_Sorry, Agent-san._

 

It happened in a second.

The door opened, and the brunet took a step into the dark room.

Before Iwaizumi could do or say, or even think anything, Oikawa turned, grabbed his tie and pulled him forward. He closed the door with a kick and slammed the confused raven against it. He cupped his cheeks and brought their lips together.

Iwaizumi stilled.

Oikawa.

Oikawa Tooru.

Oikawa Tooru was kissing him.

He could feel the softness of his lips, the warmth of his body, the slender hands cradling his face. The hesitancy in his movements, the way his fingers trembled, the sweet vanilla scent…

Fuck.

Iwaizumi brought a hand behind the neck of the brunet to pull him closer and kissed back, lips hungry and rough. Oikawa opened his mouth to let out a small, surprised moan, and the raven seized the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

Tooru forgot everything. The yakuza, the fear, the mission…his agent hadn’t hit him, hadn’t rejected him. No, he was kissing the hell out him. He didn’t even remember kissing could be this good.

Iwaizumi wrapped a muscular arm around his waist and swiftly inverted their position, blocking Oikawa against the wall. His hands roamed under the man’s shirt, running over the milky skin of his sculpted back, as the brunet held onto him, grabbing his black hair in a way that stole Iwaizumi’s rationality.

He bit teasingly, hungrily Tooru’s lips and then left a trail of kiss and bites down his jaw, till the neck. Painfully slow, as to taste the man centimeter by centimeter. Oikawa raised a hand to cover his mouth and silence any sound, but Iwaizumi growled and pinned it to the wall.

“H-hiri…” Oikawa moaned, between ragged breaths, throwing back the head to make it easier for the man to mark his neck.

Something wrong.

“Tooru…” the man replied, out of breath, as his teeth grazed lightly Oikawa’s skin, eliciting another moan. Iwaizumi pressed their bodies closer, a sudden urge not to stop, not to lose that moment. Not to return to reality. Not yet.

“Hiri-chan!” Oikawa repeated, a bit higher, and even if his voice was still filled with the desire, there was an edge that put Iwaizumi on alert.

 

**_“Why you don’t call me Hiri-chan in private?”_ **

**_“…I don’t want to get attached to a false name.”_ **

Hit by the sudden realization, Iwaizumi stopped and slowly raised his head to meet Oikawa’s gaze. His eyes were glassy, the hair disheveled and his lips red and wet.

The brunet nodded slowly.

“Hiri?” Iwaizumi repeated automatically as his brain frantically put all the pieces together.

The sudden kiss. The anxiety. The way Oikawa had avoided to talk about the mission for the entire day.

The breakdown after the photos.

Iwaizumi’s eyes widened.

“I told you to call me Nezumi in the bedroom, Tooru,” he replied in a dark, low whisper. Oikawa shivered.

They were being spied.

Iwaizumi tensed and looked around, adrenaline kicking in. Oikawa tapped lightly his shoulder to have his attention and then brought a finger to his ear.

Ah, they could only listen.

Iwaizumi nodded in understanding, thinking as fast as he could. If Oikawa had resorted to that, probably the enemies had managed to put a bug on him and probably… blackmailed him? Sugawara must have been a cover. He was amazed Oikawa had managed to plan it all to protect his identity, without doing anything stupid.

In that case, there was only one solution left.

“Sorry” he mouthed in silence to the brunet, who was anxiously waiting for the next move.

Before the other could understand, Iwaizumi resumed what they were doing. He cupped Oikawa’s cheeks and kissed him passionately; even if part of him was focused on the mission, his body was still burning with the fire the brunet had started.

Without a warning, he moved the hands under Oikawa’s thighs and smoothly picked him up. Tooth let out a surprised squeal and wrapped his legs around Iwaizumi’s torso, clinging with the hands to his shoulders.

“Nezumi?” _Please, throw me on the bed._

“Shower. Now,” Iwaizumi replied in a gravelly voice, moving towards the bathroom as if the man in his arms weighted nothing.

_Oh shit. Even better._

Tooru, “to keep the act going”, ran the fingers through his spiky hair and kissed him again, the fear of falling already forgotten. The agent picking him up like that had only increased his desire. Shit, why couldn’t that be all real and normal? He wanted more, more of how he was being held, touched, kissed…more.

The two stumbled in the bathroom and Iwaizumi broke the kiss just the time to put Oikawa down in the shower and tore his shirt off. He also took off his own, showing the chiseled abs and tanned skin, and threw it in the shower. Oikawa unabashedly stared at him with a flushed, adoring expression that risked making Iwaizumi lose his focus once more.

The idiot, staring at him like that, as if he hadn’t the body of an Adonis. Iwaizumi couldn’t tear his eyes off him.

But they had to continue.

With a smirk, Iwaizumi unfastened the belt of his trousers.

“Like what you see?” he teased, knowingly.

Oikawa blushed at first but then grinned, licking his lips.

“That’s my question,” he replied, imitating the raven.

They both got ridden of their trousers and threw them in the shower.

They stopped, gazing with desire and curiosity at the body of the other. The way the muscles drew curves and lines, the scars on Iwaizumi’s chest, the moles on Oikawa’ skin, the curve of the neck, the sharp jaw, the squared shoulders…

Iwaizumi moved first.

He pushed Oikawa against the tiled wall of the shower, gently but with enough strength to make his head spin. The brunet felt like his legs could buckle in a matter of seconds.

Iwaizumi towered over him, hands at the side of his head. He brushed with the lips against his ear, teeth grazing a sensitive spot that made Oikawa sigh in pleasure.

“I’m going to fuck you senseless, Tooru.”

Then he opened the water, and it coldly poured on them. He kissed the boy so that he couldn’t curse or squeal for the sudden icy shower while moving frantically the hands through his soft hair and over his body.

In a few seconds, something sparkled, and there was a small explosion. Oikawa let out a yelp, crouching as he brought a hand to his head.

“Shit!”

Iwaizumi knelt rapidly and took the smoking bug out of his hair, throwing it on the floor. He quickly closed the cold water.

“It’s done, they can’t hear us now,” he told him, trying to stop his urges to resume what he was doing. Shit, he had a boner to calm down. The only thing that made it less awkward was the fact that Oikawa had the same problem.

The brunet raised his head, still seated on the floor.

“The bug…?”

“Fried.”

“The cover?”

“Intact. Thanks to you.”

Under Iwaizumi’ surprised gaze, Oikawa’s eyes filled with tears. With an ugly sob, the brunet curled in a ball and stifled his cry against the arms.

They were fine. They were fine. They were fine. They were fine-

“Hey, hey, hey!” Panicking, Iwaizumi crouched again to his side and pulled him into an uncomfortable hug. “It’s fine, everything it’s fine. We’re safe for now. You did a good job, a wonderful job. You saved both of us. I don’t know how, but you saved us. I’m so proud of you. Fuck, you’re the most brilliant man I’ve ever met…” Iwaizumi murmured reassuringly, drawing circles on the naked, wet back of the brunette.

“They said they were going to shoot you! They blackmailed me! I had to lie! I couldn’t let them know! I didn’t know what to do!” Oikawa blurted, letting out all his accumulated fear, holding onto the agent as if he was the anchor in a stormy sea.

“I’m sorry,” Iwaizumi grimaced, “I hadn’t thought they could do something like that. I’m sorry you had to go through something like this, alone. I should have known better-”

“Don’t apologize!” Oikawa scolded, voice muffled against his shoulder. “Just. Don’t.”

Iwaizumi frowned, confused, and tried to steal a glance at his face, but the man hid against the crook of his neck.

“There’s something wrong? It’s fine,” Iwaizumi gently tried to put him at ease, “You can tell me what you want I-”

“Sorry,” Oikawa cut him off.

“What?”

“Sorry,” the boy repeated a bit louder, “for forcing myself onto you.”

Iwaizumi blinked. Frowned. Tilted his head.

Oh.

He sighed.

“Oikawa,” he called him, but the brunet curled even more.

“Tooru.” At his firm but soft tone, at the mention of his given name, Oikawa couldn’t resist and perked up.

Okay, the agent didn’t seem angry. Nor disgusted.

“Yes?” he asked in a trembling voice.

Iwaizumi cleared his throat, aware his ears were turning red.

“I…would prefer you didn’t apologize. For that.”

Oikawa kept looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights, the wet locks falling over his wide eyes.

Iwaizumi sighed again. So dense.

“I don’t know how I could have given you this idea, but there’s nothing you have to apologize for. Nothing you forced onto me. There wasn’t anything I didn’t like or didn’t want to do. Hell, Oikawa, what part of me didn’t seem into it?”

Oh.

Oikawa’s heart froze and then started beating like crazy.

Oh.

He blushed furiously, biting his bottom lip.

“M-M-me too…” he replied awkwardly, “I enjoyed it. Like, I wanted.”

He felt like dying inside. Where was his smooth flirty side when he needed it?!

Iwaizumi chuckled, “Dork.”

“Hey!”

“But I’m glad, really glad you’re alright.” His eyes softened, and the lips curved in small, warm smile, as he gently brushed away the strands of hair from his face.

And Tooru felt on cloud nine, heart bursting and fuck it all, he would have done it all over again, he would have fought the entire Yakuza barehanded if it had meant meeting him.

“Now come on, you have a match soon. I can’t risk you catching a cold,” Iwaizumi reminded him as he helped him stand up. “Take a hot shower first, I’ll bring you some clothes, and then you’ll tell me all that happened.”

Oikawa nodded, starting to feel the cold, and hugged himself to stop shivering.

“You’ll stay here, right?” he made sure, still feeling weak and exposed after that hellish day.

“Sure, call me and I'll run to you,” Iwaizumi assured him “I’ll contact my team in the meanwhile.”

At the mention of his friends, Oikawa grimaced.

“Wait…the thing… it wasn’t working while we, uhm, you know, right?”

Iwaizumi made a resigned, guilty face.

“They haven’t listened, right?” Oikawa tried again, shame tinging his skin a deep red.

Without a word, Iwaizumi left the bathroom and closed the door behind his back.

“AGENT-SAN!”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> *Hiri Nezumi means "Hedgehog"


End file.
